


Paint My Love

by oblivionbarnes



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art Critic Bucky, Artist Steve Rogers, Love Confessions, M/M, bucky is conflicted and gay, business partners to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oblivionbarnes/pseuds/oblivionbarnes
Summary: James "Bucky" Barnes is the hit art critic of the time, practically deciding which artists become famous through his harsh and brutally honest critiques. After being invited to a brand new gallery opening in New York City, a certain artist catches his eye— one under the name of Steve Rogers, an ex-soldier who's building a reputation in the art world. Wanting to help the rising artist, Bucky goes to meet up with him to discuss work— and quickly discovers that the paintings aren't the only special thing about Steve.





	Paint My Love

**Author's Note:**

> In my art class, we learn a ton about the art world and how to make it as an artist. I have no desire to actually pursue art as a job, but hey, maybe I can apply the things to other things. Such as fanfiction.  
> Though, keep in mind that I'm a student. My depiction of the art world won't be 100% accurate.

Being an art critic was a complete _nightmare_.

Sure, he got free entry to famous galleries, got to meet and decide the fate of artists, and was well-known around the whole damn country for his reviews. But Bucky was just _bored_ with where the contemporary art world was going. It seemed like ages since his last positive critique, and he was building quite the reputation for the harsh words he used to describe certain shows.

"I just don't understand how you didn't like that gallery show yesterday," his coworker, Nat said to him while walking down the hallway of _Stark Movement_ 's headquarters. Bucky worked for them for a few years now, and they were the hit art magazine of the time.

"Nat, couldn't you see? The artists hardly put any meaning behind the work. It was just still-lifes and portraits— nothing more than that. Not to mention the absolutely pretentious classical music that was playing," replied Bucky in an exasperated tone.

"So? Da Vinci has paintings like those, and don't tell me his still-lifes aren't probably worth at least a hundred grand."

"Da Vinci was Renaissance," Bucky rambled on. "But this is right now, and composition doesn't matter as much as the meaning behind it. People want interesting stories, not just apples and blankets. Where were you for the past hundred years?"

Nat scoffed, waving it off. "Whatever. It was aesthetically appealing. And I'm just an editor, what do I know?"

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Well, you sure as hell know how to criticize the art critic."

As they approached their desks, Nat departed, and Bucky walked over to his alone. He slouched onto his swivel office chair, bending over to turn on his computer. Quickly, he typed in the password and logged on.

Looking at his email, he saw one from his boss, Tony, and immediately checked it out.  
"Hey, kid," it started. Bucky already was scowling at the use of "kid," since he was only around ten years younger than the man. 

"There's a new opening at the Barton Gallery this weekend," it continued. "Wanna go take a peek and see what's going on in there?"

Bucky looked over to his calendar, seeing that his weekend was free. "Why not," he typed in reply, then unlocked his phone to set a reminder. He knew there was a low chance that the gallery could change his ongoing streak of negative reviews, but hey, it was worth a shot.

 

As he entered the large gallery space that Saturday, he was greeted by the owner, Clint Barton. 

"Hey man," Clint greeted, "Glad you could come. Try not to rip anyone here to absolute shreds," he jokingly nudged Bucky with his elbow, and Bucky rolled his eyes. _My reputation precedes me_ , he thought.

"I'll try my best," said Bucky, who took out his small notepad and started looking around. Taking note of every artist's name, he wrote small comments on their works. Nothing was too impressive, to Bucky's expectations. All kitsch, meaningless, or unoriginal— and Bucky sighed as he realized how he would be writing another negative critique. Passing by some paintings that looked like goddamn _geometry projects_ , he scowled and wrote the details in his notebook. " _Too bland to be abstract expressionist, but too meaningless to be anything else. Seems more to be graphic design than gallery art. Absolutely dull and void of context,_ " he scratched down. 

He kept walking, making more notes of every artist's works. They varied from comments such as, " _Boring, but could work with a better angle and brush strokes_ ," to, " _Absolutely dreadful— not sure how this person even made it here_." Bucky felt like he was losing hope, unimpressed with every sculpture or painting or photograph; no matter how much he walked through the place, he couldn't find anything he liked.

But as he turned around the corner into another room, he was greeted with something different. His eyes widening in surprise, and he scanned the paintings, a smirk on his lips as he looked at the details of each one.

He stopped in front of a large piece, about 6 feet tall and 6 feet wide. It was done with rather cold colors, using drastic roughness in the shading. It depicted a close up of young man's neck and head leaning at a dynamic angle on a table of some sort. Bucky could tell there was a lot of emotion behind it, based on the heavy brushwork. The straight horizon line in the background, which he usually hated, seemingly fit the image. 

As Bucky evaluated the painting before him, his eyes wandered over to the nameplate for the piece. " _Wounded_ ," it read, "Oil on canvas. Steven Rogers. $500."

_Only $500?_ , Bucky wondered. _That's rather cheap for something as good as this._

"Interested in this piece?" Clint spoke from behind, making Bucky jump a bit. "You're smiling, which is new. Do you...like it?" he asked as if it was a foreign concept to Bucky.

"Actually, you read my mind. This guy's work— Steven Rogers— is extraordinary. I haven't seen stuff like it in a while, and it's weird how cheaply he priced it," replied Bucky.

Clint nodded, "Surprisingly, he isn't here right now. I don't know why, since this is his first time being in a show, ever. He's a nice guy, though. Not as messed up as other artists, surprisingly."

"Well, he sure is a lucky guy, since he's going to be my first positive critique in a while. Tony's going to be happy I'm finally not wrecking someone's life," scoffed Bucky.

"I can give you his number. You can meet up with him sometime, if you're really passionate," shrugged Clint, using Bucky's notepad to write the number down. "The paintings are pretty impressive, especially if you like them out of all people. I'm glad to have his work."

"What even is his story? This piece has to have some background to it," Bucky gestured to the large painting. Clint thought for a moment.

"I'm pretty sure he's an ex-soldier. Which obviously has mental tolls along with it, so he takes it out on the canvas. A lot of work is based on fear, dread, or just the hellish landscape of the battlefield," he replied.

"That's certainly some inspiration," Bucky nodded. "More than the simple, 'I just wanted it to look interesting,' excuses I've been hearing recently."

"He has a lot of potential," agreed Clint. Bucky glanced at his notepad.

"I'm going to write tonight, hopefully having it published soon. But I do want to meet up with Steve. Maybe next weekend," Bucky smirked again as he looked back up at the painting. "This man is going somewhere."

"It's nice to see you so riled up," Clint smiled, and patted Bucky on the back. "I'm glad to have helped."

Over the course of the next week, Bucky's critique was published and became a hit— mostly because of how it was actually _praising_ the work for once. Bucky had dug deep into the details and connecting themes of Steve's part of the show, and the readers of the magazine were going wild. Tony thanked Bucky for that, and Bucky personally thought he deserved a raise for his hard work.

"I've never heard of this guy before," Nat said to Bucky that Friday by his desk. "Steven Rogers? What a basic name."

"Well, his art sure isn't basic. I'm going to try to meet him this weekend, discuss future shows with him," replied Bucky. 

"Hopefully he isn't some weird drunken hippie guy," muttered Nat, and Bucky shook his head.

"No, Clint said he's surprisingly not that bad. Just a broken war vet, probably some nice old man. With a massive talent, that's for sure."

"Well, have fun. I gotta go help Rhodey edit his article. Hopefully Steve's as charming as his paintings, though," said Nat before making her way through the office. Bucky waved as she left, leaning back in his chair. He picked his phone off the table and started to write a text to this new artist he adored. 

" _Hey_ ," he wrote, " _This is James Barnes, the writer of that critique on your show at the Barton Gallery last weekend. Your work is very impressive, and I wanted to know if you were free this weekend for me to see your studio and other works you've done, if that's alright. Message me back when you can_."

A few hours later, when Bucky was back at home, he got a reply.

" _Hi James, that sounds great! I can't thank you enough for your review. Does Sunday at 2 sound good? Here's my address—_ " the place was listed below, and Bucky smiled as he wrote back. 

" _Sounds great. See you then_."

 

Sunday came quickly, and Bucky felt pleasantly excited for his meeting with Steven. His studio was in an empty warehouse in Brooklyn, not too far from Bucky's apartment. As he walked up to the warehouse's door, he sharply knocked on it. No one responded.

He knocked again, and after a few minutes, a man came to the door.

"Hey, are you that art critic meeting with Steve?" he asked, and Bucky nodded. "Alright," the man said, "follow me then. I'm Sam, one of his friends," he held out his hand and Bucky shook it. "Bucky," he said in reply.

Sam pulled back and held the door open for Bucky. As they walked in, Bucky's eyes opened in awe as he looked around at some paintings scattered about. "This is stunning," he murmured.

"Yeah, Steve has a real talent. We just moved into here, so stuff is a mess, and Steve's been busy. He's over this way, in the back room," Sam gestured, and Bucky followed him to a small, office-shaped room.

There, a tall and well-built blond man was sitting at a desk, doing what Bucky assumed to be simply paperwork. He turned over as he heard them walk in, and Bucky felt his cheeks flush when he looked at the man's face.

The man seemed so finely chiseled, like a Bernini sculpture. He had striking blue eyes and seemed to be quite young—probably about Bucky's own age. He wore a tank top and khaki shorts, both of which showed off large muscles underneath.

"Your guest is here," Sam told the man while leaning halfway into the doorway. He leaned back and walked off, leaving Bucky alone with the man.

"Uh, Steven?" Bucky stammered, and the man nodded.

"You can call me Steve. And yeah, you're James Barnes?" he asked.

Bucky nodded, "I mostly just go by 'Bucky,' though," he replied. "It's an honor to finally meet you, though you're much younger than I expected."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Steve laughed. "Lot of people don't realize how someone as young as me could get discharged from the army, but you never know what you can run into there. Thanks for the critique article, by the way, it's been getting me a lot of attention."

"You deserve it," Bucky blurted, slightly distracted by how Steve gave him such an earnest smile while thanking him. "I mean, you're really talented. I haven't seen something this fresh in a long time."

"Thanks," Steve said again, "I appreciate it. I only recently started doing this on a professional level, but you've really helped."

Bucky smiled. "Could I get a tour of the studio? I'd love to see your process, and any other pieces you've been working on."

"Sure," nodded Steve. "Come with me. Our place isn't quite professional yet, but it works."

Bucky was led back out towards all the paintings he saw before. "These are gorgeous," he said as they walked by. Steve seemed to be a bit flustered by this, giving back a nervous laugh.

"Thanks. It means a lot when that comes from an actual critic, and not my friends or family," he said while crossing his arms.

"Have you always been painting?" Bucky asked, looking at one of the big canvases in front of him. It seemed to be a portrait of Sam that he must have been doing as a gift.

"Well, I've always been into art since I was little. I'd make small paintings, or sketch on my homework. Even in the army, I'd be drawing whenever I could. It wasn't until I was discharged that I decided to do it full time, and that was only around two years ago," Steve replied.

"So you're new to the art world as a whole, with the galleries and commissioning," Bucky turned over to Steve. Steve nodded, "I've only sold a few works, and money... is a bit slim."

"I can definitely help you. I know a bunch of gallery owners, and they can help you sell more. Though, you'd also have to work constantly, and I don't want to force you to do anything," replied Bucky. Steve shrugged. 

"I want to do this for a living, so working's fine with me," he said and crossed his arms. "You really don't need to go out of your way, though—"

"Another thing you need to get used to in the art world is to accept any help you get," interrupted Bucky, smirking at Steve. "You're very polite, but you're going to have to use opportunities to your advantage. Plus, I insist. I'll find you a gallery by the end of the month."

Steve smiled back and nodded. "Alright, thank you so much. It really means a lot."

"It's what art critics do. We get good artists in the spotlight, and help maintain their fame. You know Greenberg?"

Steve shook his head, and Bucky continued, "He's a famous critic from here a couple decades ago. Basically ran the abstract expressionism movement, and helped many artists grow. Like Jackson Pollock, though he was kind of a shitty guy."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I've heard stuff about Pollock. I promise I won't be as messed up as him, though," he laughed, and Bucky's eyes glanced away from Steve and back.

_Damn, even his laugh is attractive_ , he thought, disconcerted. "That's good," he said and turned his head over towards the other end of the warehouse.

"Let's continue the tour, then," Steve suggested and led Bucky through the building. As he walked ahead of Bucky, the art critic couldn't help but focus on Steve's ass as he walked behind the artist. _This is going to be torture_ , he thought with dread.

Bucky looked around Steve's workplace some more, seeing some works in progress and how Steve organized his things. After about another hour, he decided it was time to leave.

"Thanks for showing me around," he said on the way out, "I'll be sure to keep in touch, and help you with any gallery openings coming up."

"Thanks, again, for everything," Steve smiled and waved as Bucky left the warehouse. Bucky turned away quickly in order to hide the faint redness in his cheeks.

Pulling out his phone as he walked towards his car, he started texting Nat. " _Just met with Steve. We need to talk about it. Meet me at 5 in that new coffee place you like. OK?_ "

As he unlocked his car and hopped in, Nat replied. " _Alright. This better be important_ ," she said back.

Bucky hastily drove over to the coffee place, seeing Nat already through the window as he parked the car outside. He quickly jumped out of the car and walked into the shop where Nat was waiting for him.

"I hope this is good," she said as he sat down in the booth across from her. "Was he crazy? A murderer? Alcoholic?"

"I'll tell you what he was," Bucky replied as he adjusted his position in his seat. "That man himself was a fucking masterpiece. I can't tell if I found his paintings or him more beautiful. He's super sweet, too."

"Ah, so he's young and hot. You know you can't hook up with him if you plan on helping his career, right? It would look terrible for the magazine."

"I know," spat Bucky, "and that's what I'm feeling conflicted about right now. Oh my God, Nat, you should've seen him. He looked so refined, with a super muscular build and such a pretty face. Super humble and polite as well."

"Hm, seems more like your type than mine," replied Nat. "So what? You're going to drop him as a client and get laid? Or help him reach fame and regret your life choices? Because if you get him famous, you'd have to keep it a secret."

"Well, that's only if he's into guys. _And_ if he likes me," Bucky reminded her. "But I already promised him to find a new gig at a gallery. If he gets any more famous after that, he's a goner."

"I think you should try pursuing him. It's worth a shot," Nat sipped at her iced coffee she had ordered before Bucky got here. "As long as it's before you elevate his career too much, then there's no harm in trying."

Bucky nodded, considering his options.  
"What gallery are you bringing him to, anyways?" asked Nat. 

Bucky shrugged, "Maybe the Maximoffs'. I heard they want a show featuring a new artist, and the theme doesn't have to be so strict. After seeing what Steve already had done, he could probably do a show there."

"Sounds like a nice idea," Nat nodded. "The twins are nice. They'll probably give him a show. You should talk to them and Steve before arranging it, though. But based on what you've said, I'm sure they'll get along."

"Probably," agreed Bucky. "He was so nice, oh my God. You should've met him."

"How were his works?" asked Nat, trying to steer the conversation away from Steve himself.

"They were pretty good. Portraits, mostly, but done in such a nice style. He had the place organized pretty well, though it was empty since he's rather new to the art field."

"Did he work alone?"

Bucky shook his head. "He had one friend named Sam. Not as heavenly as Steve, though he seemed nice enough."

"From what I'm hearing, everything sounds too _normal_ ," said Nat. "I mean, most artists we meet are in some way severely fucked up. But this guy is super nice and hot, with an organized studio and a normal friend? Suspicious to me. Maybe he has some underlying secret."

"Wouldn't be surprised. I'm just hoping that the secret is that he's gay," Bucky jested. Nat rolled her eyes.

"Whatever makes you happy. Anyways, was that all you needed to come here for? Just to gush about Steve?" she asked, and Bucky shrugged. "Mostly," he replied.

"Alright. Then I think we're finished here. I have a lot of work to catch up on, so unfortunately I can't listen to you talk about Steve for hours tonight," Nat said as she started to stand up in the booth. "I wish you luck in your pursuit of him. Good night, see you tomorrow."

"See you," Bucky replied as Nat went to throw away her plastic cup and walk out of the shop. Bucky also stood up, taking his phone out. As he walked out of the coffee shop, he opened up his conversation with Steve.

" _Hey Steve_ ," he texted while he hopped into his car, " _I know we met up not that long ago, but I found a gallery that you could give your first solo show in. The Maximoffs'. I can give them a call, and if they say yes, how about we meet up again and I can help you choose which pieces to put in?_ "

Bucky clicked the phone off and put it into his pocket. He didn't bother to check for a reply until he was back in his apartment and in more comfortable clothes, sitting on his couch snugly. Steve's reply was rather lengthly, which he couldn't help but sigh at.

" _That sounds great! Thank you so much, you've been a real help. I'm free on Tuesday, if that's alright. Sam won't be there, though, since he's meeting up with some friend that day. I hope that's alright, he wouldn't be doing much anyways. You can come over at any time, whatever works best for you. I'm excited to talk about a possible show! Thanks again, and I'll see you soon_."

_So it'll just be me and Steve_ , Bucky thought, praying that it wouldn't be as awkward as he expected it to be. He opened up his calendar app and checked Tuesday. _Free. Lucky me_.

" _Tuesday works for me. Any time you want_ ," he texted back. 

" _Alright! I think 2 again would be fine. You can let yourself in, if I'm not at the door immediately. See you then!_ " Steve said.  
Bucky set the reminder in his phone, and immediately started texting Nat.

" _Guess who I'm meeting up with again on Tuesday ;)_ ," he sent. Nat sent back a rolling-eyes emoji, and he could tell that she knew. 

 

The next day went by quicker than Bucky realized, and when Tuesday arrived he started to panic.

"Do I look fine in this?" he asked Nat from his desk. Nat rolled her eyes.

"You look fine. Jesus, it's not like this is a date. It's the second time you're meeting the guy, for Christ's sake. Who even said he's gay and single?"

"No one did, but what if he happens to be? Anyways, I'm here to impress, if that's the case. Better safe than sorry," Bucky said with a smirk. He stood from his desk, taking a small notebook and pencil, and walked over to Tony's office.

"Hey, Tony," he said, and his boss looked up. "I'm meeting up with that new artist Steve Rogers. Gonna discuss a solo show for him."

Tony nodded, "Right, the one whose art you actually liked. Then go, have fun sorting it all out."

Bucky gathered some more things from his desk before heading out of the building. In the garage, he hopped into his car and began to make the drive to Steve's studio.  
He parked the car next to the curb, and made his way out towards the studio's door. Knocking once, he waited for a reply.

The door didn't open, and he knocked again. As Steve didn't answer, Bucky shrugged and opened the door himself, since it seemed to be unlocked. He closed the door behind him, walking into the giant warehouse.

"Hello?" he called, and he heard shuffling from the back room that Steve was in last time.

"Hey, I'm back here. Be out in a sec," Steve called back. Bucky nodded to himself, walking over to view the paintings before him. There was a new one, of an old man in Steve's rather expressive style. Bucky moved forward to see it even closer, examining the individual strokes used. He smiled, impressed by Steve's skill. _He should use this one in the show_ , Bucky thought.

"Oh, I did that yesterday," Bucky heard Steve say behind him. Bucky didn't take his eyes off it, captivated by how emotive it was.

"It's great," said Bucky. "You should definitely use it in your show..."

Bucky's voice trailed off as he turned around to face Steve. He scanned his eyes over Steve, before quickly turning back to the painting.  
Steve, for some reason, was shirtless. Not only was he shirtless, but he was absolutely _ripped_.

"Really? You think?" Steve asked, completely ignoring the fact that his bare chest was out. It wasn't anything abnormal to do, Bucky knew, but for some reason it felt a lot more intimate when it was Steve.

"Y-yeah, it's definitely a good piece to use. Your brush strokes seem to show emotion really well," Bucky took a step backwards, trying his best not to let his eyes wander back to Steve.

"Thanks," Steve smiled. "I started it after we met, on Sunday. Guess you'd put me in an inspired mood," he laughed.

Bucky smiled rather bashfully as he turned back to Steve, holding his eyes up to Steve's face. "That's good to hear. What other possible pieces do you have for the show?"

"Oh, they're back here," Steve motioned to the back room, leading Bucky to it. "So, the Maximoffs said yes, I assume?"

Bucky nodded as he walked. "They're eager for a debut solo show. The two of them are nice, so I bet you'll get along with them."  
The two entered the room, and Bucky saw a layout of some paintings. They were gorgeous, arranged in a way that Bucky found interesting.  
Steve already found some sort of theme with the portraits for his show. Based on the paintings, they centered around trauma and emotion.

"I decided to make my concept about pain. It sounds darker when I say it aloud, but something about a figure in with strong emotions is just... interesting to paint," Steve shrugged. "Some things about the army just sticks with you, I guess."

Bucky awkwardly shifted his position. "Well, you definitely portray it well. Something about these is just so... captivating. I feel like my soul is being stared at."

Steve let out a chuckle. "Thanks, I guess that's the point. Do you think these ones are alright for the show?"

Bucky studied them again. "You'll need about 25 to 30 pieces in total. Varying in size, of course. The ones laid out here are about... 15?" he asked, and Steve nodded.  
"Then," he continued, "You'll need about 10 more for the show."

"I probably have enough, though I'll need to sort out the arrangement more," Steve replied. "There are some more outside. I can go get them," he said and walked over to the main room. Bucky waited about a minute before Steve came back with some more pieces, seemingly carrying the large canvases with ease. He was still shirtless, though, making Bucky's cheeks tint a bit red.

"Here," said Steve, placing the canvases down on the ground next to the others. They were just as beautiful as the others, though varying in size.

"Hmm..." Bucky thought about the positioning of the paintings, trying to ignore Steve's abs as best he could. "Well, I'd move this here," he picked up one and placed it somewhere else on the ground. "It complements this piece more."

He continued to help Steve sort the pieces around, creating a good placement for his show.  
"Of course, this could change based on the gallery, though I'm pretty sure it'll be fine," Bucky told Steve. 

"Thanks, really. You've done so much to help me," Steve exhaled in amusement. "It's really amazing. I don't think I could do anything to repay you."

"No, it's fine, really. You got to be my first positive critique in a long time. My boss is already happy about that. Besides, it's nice to lend an artist a hand sometimes."

Steve smiled at that. "Well if you need my help with anything, I'll definitely be there."

Bucky nodded. "Alright, I'll be heading out then. Just text me if you need anything else with your show, or just any questions. I'll be sure to visit you there when it happens. Also keep in touch with the Maximoffs; I gave you their number."

"Will do," replied Steve, walking back to the entrance with Bucky. "Thanks again. I'll never forget what you've done for me."

Bucky chuckled a bit, amused at how much he'd been thanked in the past five minutes. "No problem, really. I'll keep in touch."

Steve let him out, and waved to Bucky as they departed. As Bucky walked back to his car, he silently thanked God that he didn't have to restrain himself from staring at Steve's abs anymore.  
_Hopefully at the show, he'll wear something I won't be so flustered by_ , he thought as he opened the car door. As he shut himself inside and started the ignition, he felt excited but nervous for Steve's exhibition.  
_Let's hope it goes well._

 

The night of the opening, Bucky felt anxious as he drove over to the Maximoffs' gallery.

He had been to maybe hundreds of openings, galleries, and solo exhibitions, but for this one in particular he felt incredibly tense. A lot of people would be there, since Bucky had told most of his office about it, and they told others, the news of this debut artist spreading like wildfire. Even Tony was going to be there, and he hardly ever went to these openings. He preferred to just manage from afar.

As Bucky arrived at the gallery, he found a parking space around the corner. He exited his car hastily and already could see all the guests spilling outside the building. It wasn't the smallest gallery, but Bucky guessed so many people came that not everyone fit inside. Quite impressive for a debut show.

He walked over, seeing a balance of people he recognized and people he didn't. Making his way through the crowd, it wasn't long until he saw Steve himself, talking to some faces he didn't recognize.

Steve wore a nice light blue suit, which Bucky was rather pleased to see. _Good, he's wearing a shirt this time_ , he jokingly thought to himself. Steve seemed to notice Bucky's gaze from afar, and turned over to meet it. Bucky gave a small wave, and Steve quickly ended whatever conversation he was having to move to Bucky.

"You don't have to stop talking," Bucky said when Steve walked up to him. "Go meet new people, they might be able to make you even more successful. Buy some of your pieces."

Steve shrugged, "Yeah, but I'm a little overwhelmed by this. This is far more people than I expected, and you're the only one I actually know."

That made Bucky silently laugh a bit. Over the couple of weeks before the show, Bucky did talk to Steve a couple of more times. Nat constantly made fun of him for it, but he couldn't help it. Every time Steve had a question, he immediately ran to Bucky for answers like a puppy. Bucky found it rather humorous how Steve was so talented, yet completely clueless when it came to the art world. 

"You're going to have to talk to others eventually," Bucky said, and Steve gave a sarcastic pout.

"Can I stick with you for a bit at least?" he asked, and Bucky couldn't help but nod. Even though having Steve hover over him wouldn't be good to help him get used to the art world, Bucky could definitely spare time to hang out with Steve for a bit. _He'll learn eventually_ , he thought.

"There are some really well-known people here," Steve murmured in awe to Bucky as they stood aside from the crowd. "I mean, Tony Stark? I thought he never came to events like this, but I just shook his hand a few minutes ago."

"Tony likes your work," Bucky shrugged. "And consider yourself lucky. He usually never replies to me when I tell him about a new artist's show, but today I guess he was free."

"I also saw that famous photographer, Vision, I think he calls himself? This is really amazing, I can't believe all these people are here," Steve sighed.

"Well, get ready to meet more famous people, then. As you get more well-known, more and more famous people want to see you. Hell, _you'll_ be considered to be one of them soon."

"All thanks to you, no doubt," said Steve again, flashing a smile at Bucky. Bucky laughed a little nervously in reply. "Hey, no problem," he shrugged. 

"Ah, Steve!" a voice called, and Bucky turned over to see a blonde-haired lady making her way over. 

"Sharon," Steve greeted, and she pulled him into a hug as she gestured around the room.

"Your show is amazing! There are so many people here! It feels weird to walk among all these high-class art people," she laughed, and turned towards Bucky. "Who's this? Your date?"

Bucky immediately was thrown off by the assumption. "Uh... I..."

"He's the art critic that basically made this all possible," Steve replied, which Bucky was thankful for.

"Oh, Bucky, I think?" Sharon asked, and Bucky nodded. "Steve told me a lot about you. You really, really are kind to do all this for him," she said, and Bucky bashfully smiled.

"Thanks."

"Well, anyways, I just dropped by to see how it's going here. I'm going to go find Maria now. Nice to see you, though!"

"Nice to see you too," Steve waved, and Sharon walked off to mix with the crowd. 

"Who was that"? Bucky asked, and Steve sighed. 

"She was my ex. We dated for a few months but decided it wasn't really working out, so we remained friends. Still a little awkward, though," he said. 

Bucky nodded, "Ah, she seemed nice, though. It's impressive that you're still on good terms with her. My ex nearly beat the shit out of me, except my friend Nat was there to stop him."

"That's awful," Steve replied. "Good thing Sharon didn't feel like that with me. I may be an ex-soldier, but you'd be surprised with how strong she could be."

"She sounds similar to Nat, then," Bucky said, pointing to a familiar redhead in the crowd. Nat, noticing them from afar, walked over to the pair.

"Hey, Bucky. Having fun?" she asked, and turned over to Steve. "Ah, and you're the famed artist. Bucky's been talking a lot about you. I'm Nat, his friend and coworker."

"Steve," he shook Nat's hand. "I hope he's said nice things."

"Oh, only nice things," Nat gave Bucky a wink, and Bucky felt his face's heat rise.  
"He won't shut up about your art," she continued, "and it's definitely as impressive as he's said."

"I can hardly repay everything he's done for me," Steve smiled at Bucky. "I mean, it's all because of him that this is happening."

"I'm sure you can find some way," said Nat, giving Bucky another glance. Bucky shot back a death stare, and Nat had to hold in a laugh.  
"Anyways, I just came to check up on you. I think Clint is on his tenth glass of champagne, so I probably should go and stop him. See you two later."

Nat walked off, and Bucky was left with Steve again. Nat's small comments had gotten him a bit flustered, but he cleared his throat and faced Steve again.  
"I'm going to have to part ways as well and take notes. Since it's my job and all," he said, and Steve gave back another pout.

"That's fine, I guess. I'll go introduce myself to these fancy art people, then. Get used to it," Steve said, walking off and finally giving Bucky the opportunity to view the show in its entirety.

He walked around the gallery, seeing which pieces made it and which didn't. He noted that the first painting he had seen of Steve's, " _Wounded_ ," was there.  
_Still just as beautiful_ , he thought, examining it again. The detail and emotion that Steve depicted in his paintings were extraordinary, and Bucky was in awe even after working with Steve for the past few weeks.  
He wasn't even sure what to write in his small notepad when he took it out.

Holding his pencil absentmindedly, he quickly scribbled down, " _Beautiful won't even describe the works. Almost as magnificent as Steve himself_."  
Not a very descriptive statement, he knew, and he'd be annoyed later when reviewing his notes to find something to write. But it was better to get at least something down.  
He continued to stare at some of Steve's pieces, still at a loss for words. Steve explained more about them days before the show, talking about how he takes out his own emotions onto the canvas. Bucky knew he had dealt with some harsh feelings, based on the war experiences, though Steve must have some really bottled up emotions in him.

"Everything fine?" a voice came from beside Bucky, and he quickly closed the notepad to see who it was. The artist himself was back.

"Steve," he said rather disappointedly, "didn't I tell you to get more friendly with these art people?"

"They're so intimidating. Every second I stand with some of them, I can feel every criticism they have. Not with you, though," Steve gave a rather innocent smile, and Bucky frowned.

"I know this is your first show, but hovering with me won't get your art sold."

"Actually, one just sold. A piece I did recently. Some woman named Pepper. Offered me quite a lot, which was nice."

"Pepper Potts?" Bucky stammered. "That's the fiancée of Tony Stark. The future wife of my boss just bought your painting."

"Oh really?" asked Steve, clearly just as surprised as Bucky was. "Huh. Didn't realize that."

"You can make even bigger sales, you know. I mean, it's hard to surpass Pepper Potts, but if you actually—"

"I know, I know," Steve interrupted. "I'll go back with talking to fancy art people. Give you some space to breathe. I'll leave again, sorry."  
He gave Bucky another smile, and walked off again into the crowd. _He'll just make another sale, then come right back to me_ , Bucky thought.

As the night went on, Steve only stopped by again once more. Bucky quickly shooed him off, and tried his best to get more notes down. However, he couldn't figure out what else to write. He walked through the show over and over again, but still remained at a loss for words. Even after he left the gallery, he was unsure what he would write about the show.  
_I'll email Tony about going back to see it tomorrow_ , he decided to himself. _Where a certain distraction won't be there_.  
After receiving confirmation from Tony, he set an alarm so he wouldn't forget to go back to the gallery.  
_Hopefully I can get some writing done_ , he thought, _and hopefully Tony won't pressure me so much for this article_.

 

Walking back into the gallery the next day, he noticed it was mostly empty, save for the receptionist and one or two lone viewers. Perfect for Bucky to peacefully sort his thoughts out and write down clear notes for the show.  
He sauntered around the area, looking at each painting carefully. Taking his notepad out, he started writing some more about the show.  
" _Steve's use of dramatic lighting is reminiscent of Baroque paintings, but more modern in a sense. More powerful coloring and emotions. Gorgeous display of feelings in the figure's face_."

He walked from painting to painting, closely examining the aspects of each, from the brushstrokes to the small details to even the slightest of symbolisms. He felt as if it was still his first time seeing the works, being so impressed with how they looked even after weeks of working with Steve.

"Impressive, huh?" Bucky turned to see one of the gallery owners, Wanda, next to him.  
"I know you were working with him," she said. "I was about to close the gallery for an hour since Pietro isn't here and I need a lunch break. But you're welcome to stay inside, since you're a friend."

"Thanks," Bucky smiled, and watched as Wanda walked out. He guessed that the other visitors and the receptionist had left while he was writing stuff down, since now he was the only one in the gallery. 

_Great, now it's completely empty. No distractions anywhere_ , he thought as he wandered around again.

"Bucky?" another voice came from towards the back, and he immediately realized that he was wrong.

"Steve?" he asked, facing him. "Why are you here?"

"I could ask the same about you. I'm here because I left a few supplies here last night," Steve replied, a staple gun and canvas in hand. Thankfully, he had a shirt on as well.

"Oh. I'm here to view the gallery as a whole without a large crowd blocking the view," said Bucky. "Or the artist hovering over me the whole time."

"Well, now you only have to deal with one of them," Steve flashed a smile, and Bucky felt his heart skip a beat. He wasn't sure if he was happy or upset that Steve was there, honestly.

"Let me show you something," Steve suddenly said. "In the back."

"What? Did you make more pieces?" asked Bucky, starting to follow Steve across the gallery.

"Something like that," Steve replied, walking to the back room he came from. Bucky trailed behind, curious about what Steve wanted to show him.

"This better give me time to write more notes about the show—" Bucky started, but was cut off suddenly as he was pushed against the wall and roughly kissed. It took a second for him to realize what was happening, but soon he was kissing Steve back.

When Steve pulled away, too many thoughts were running through Bucky's head. _What do I do now? Do I continue with the article? Will Tony fire me? Will this cause some weird art scandal?_

"Please tell me I didn't misread things," Steve worriedly stated, confused by Bucky's shocked look. "I've been waiting so long to do this. Ever since I looked your name up and saw who you were."

"No, you read it correctly," Bucky gave a sincere smile, "but I'm not sure what to do. If you want to do this, then I can't help you out anymore. You have to rely on the feedback from other critics, and sort out shows by yourself."

"That's fine," Steve sighed. "I can handle things on my own. I mean, I was only helpless last night because I wanted to spend time with you, you know."

"That explains a lot," Bucky let out a small laugh. "So then, you're alright without my help? I know another critic's probably going to come and get you back on your feet. I wasn't exaggerating when I described your work."

"I'll manage. Even if it's not professional, I still appreciate your support. In any way possible," Steve said as he leaned in to kiss Bucky again. Bucky dodged it, giving Steve a serious look.

"So I have to tell my boss tomorrow that I won't be writing a review of your show," he said, and Steve pursed his lips.

"I can imagine Tony Stark can handle some disappointment. And you just got him a lot of attention, anyways. He'll be fine," replied Steve.

"Okay," Bucky said. "Fine, then. But if I'm in trouble, I'm blaming you entirely."

"I'm alright with that," Steve shrugged. "I can handle it," he said, going in for another kiss. This time Bucky allowed it, letting it deepen as Steve went on. 

 

"What do you mean you can't finish the critique? Didn't I let you go back to the gallery specifically to finish it?" Tony let out a sigh, pulling his feet off his desk.

"I was talking to Steve, and we decided we won't work professionally anymore," Bucky anxiously replied.

"Let me guess. You're hooking up with him," Tony said. Bucky gave back a hesitant look, and Tony shook his head, "I'm not surprised, honestly. But I'm still upset you won't be writing another article where you praise him. Got our magazine a bit of attention. But fine, do whatever you want. You better have a different article by Friday, though."

"I will," Bucky promised, and Tony nodded.

"Good. Now leave, go find some new galleries to visit. Guess you'll be back with your normal critiques, where you completely destroy the work with your harsh words. Or you'll find another artist. Who knows."

Bucky hastily left the office, feeling slightly guilty about not writing the article. He sat at his desk and leaned back as comfortably as he could in the rolling chair. Suddenly his phone buzzed, and he quickly took it out of his pocket to check it.

It was from Steve. " _Did Tony handle it well?_ "

" _Well enough_ ," Bucky texted back.

" _Told you. By the way, are you free for lunch today_?"

" _Supposed to be viewing galleries. I guess I can make a quick stop, though_."

" _It would be greatly appreciated,_ " Steve replied, and Bucky smiled. 

" _Fine. I'll see you then_."

Bucky put down his phone, smiling to himself over Steve's texts.

"What's got you all excited?" Nat asked as she stopped at his desk.

"I have a date for lunch," Bucky told her, chin high in confidence.

"With who? The artist guy, Steve? You must've cut off business with him, then," Nat said, and Bucky nodded.  
"Alright," she smirked, "then congrats. Have fun with him. I'll give him my 'I'll-beat-you-up-if-you-fuck-with-Bucky' talk soon, then."

"I'll prepare him for that," Bucky called to her as she walked back to her desk. Opening his phone again, he read over his and Steve's texts in excitement.

"I have a date," he whispered gleefully as he stared at his phone screen.  
"I have a date."


End file.
